


Of Owls and Organs

by EmrysBeard



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angsty Draco, Auror Harry, Halloween, M/M, Post-War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-07 07:51:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12228672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmrysBeard/pseuds/EmrysBeard
Summary: After the war Harry Potter went on to study to become an auror, while no one really seemed to care what happened to Draco Malfoy. When Harry goes to visit Draco at Malfoy Manor he sees what war can do to people. Not only the light is hurt during a battle.(A Halloween theme fic)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm writing this fic with a sort of Halloween/October vibe. To go along with that them I have chosen organ music to go with each chapter. For an added benefit I have some videos of a guy who looks a little like Draco playing the music! For this chapter I have picked this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PEHGxpRoZQM
> 
> Hope you enjoy the story!

It was the time of year when the days were growing shorter, and fallen leaves would crackle under one’s feet on the long walk up to the estate. Pumpkins of a variety of colors were stacked beside the old wicker bench which sat on the porch, and the delicate spider webs which clung to the windowsills make Malfoy Manor look seasonal as opposed to run down. The cool autumn air cast a breeze which ruffled the auburn scarf curled around Harry’s neck, so he pulled it tighter with a soft shiver. The porch creaked as Harry reached out for the door knocker, lifting the snake’s head and rapping the door three times.

Just moments later it creaked open, and the sound of an organ playing something by Bach floated lazily out into the crisp afternoon. Harry was confused for only a moment before he looked down and found an elderly house elf gazing up at him. So, Draco was still using house elves. Why was he not surprised.

“Mister Potter?” The house elf squeaked, surprise obvious on the small elf’s face. “Master Malfoy was not expecting you.”

“No, he is not,” Harry replied easily. “But I'm here on urgent business from the Ministry. It's about Draco’s mother. May I come in?”

“Oh!” The elf nodded quickly. “Of course. Master Malfoy is in the drawing room.”

Once inside he realized that the pipe organ’s music was echoing through the whole manor. Harry followed the little elf through a long hallway lit by flickering candles floating near the ceiling. The walls were lined with oil paintings, each a portrait of someone pale with a shock of blonde hair, glaring down their noses with more than a hint of disdain. The clearly once grand green wallpaper was faded and curling off the walls near the top. Harry took in the faded elegance silently.

As they grew closer to the end of the hall the organ grew louder, the music a cacophony of ominous emotion. The house elf stopped at the threshold, leaving Harry gazing into a large room which sported minimal furnishings. All of the furniture that was there had a white sheet draped over it, excluding a green, velvet love seat, two matching arm chairs, and a coffee table. The velvet loveseat in front of the hearth was drooping in the middle, and the only lamp in the room was flickering ominously. 

Harry jumped when the song ended with a crashing of notes, and he spun his head to gaze at the figure hunched over the organ. Even from the back Draco’s hair gave him away. He was panting slightly from the exertion of playing the music, his faded grey suit loose on his frame. Both Harry and Draco flinched when the house elf suddenly cleared her voice.

“A Mister Potter here to see you.”

Draco froze, hands poised over the keyboard, before he straightened his back, took a deep breath, and then spoke in a controlled, even tone.

“Thank you Rosie. Please, may you bring the tea cakes for us? Thank you Rosie.”

The house elf skittered away, leaving Harry standing awkwardly in the doorway. Draco made no move to turn to face him when he spoke again. “So, Potter, what brings you here?”

“News of your mother,” Harry replied, and he jumped when Draco suddenly spun the stool on which he was seated, turning to face the other boy. The look of both concern and anticipation on his face was overshadowed slightly by the dark circles under Draco’s exhausted eyes. His already pale skin was now paper thin, and his usually orderly bangs were a mess. Frankly he looked every bit as terrifying as the composer of the song he’d been playing just moments before, and it took Harry several seconds before he could pull his composer together and speak. “Right, yes, the mind healer she’s been working with says they've come to a breakthrough. She believes your mother is doing very well, and she had declared that you may see your mother any time now, so long as you're accompanied by a healer and an auror.”

“Oh?” Draco’s voice was very nearly bubbling over with happiness. “That's very good news! Please, sit, Rosie will have your tea and cakes in just a moment!”

“Oh, that's alright,” Harry gazed around the room nervously, hoping to make his escape as soon as possible. Draco’s strangely inviting manner was putting him more on edge than anything, and he wanted out of this house with so many bad memories, yet Draco seemed to pale even more and he shook his head.

“Please, I insist! She'll be here in just a moment! You came all this way. Good, now, that's wonderful news of my mother. I'm so happy. I know you're an auror in training, so I suppose you'd know the answer to this. Any news of my father? Will his trial be ending soon?”

“Oh… I'm afraid not. His trial is very complicated, remember,” Draco bit his lip, gazing at the ground. He could nearly feel Draco’s scowl, and he prepared himself to be thrown from the house for delivering this information, yet rather than a prompt dismissal, Draco’s suddenly cold voice held an emotion Harry could almost pinpoint as desperation.

“It's been months,” Draco spat softly, wringing his hands. “These trials are what landed mother in St Mungo's in the first place, and you lot still aren't finished with my father? We defected, he defected, what more do you want from him? Lawyers aren't cheap you know.”

“Cheap?” Harry couldn't help but laugh. It was a rough grating sound which made Draco grind his teeth. “Since when did you worry about money?”

“As if you know anything, Potter,” Draco growled softly, averting his eyes and letting them travel to the dusty, forgotten furniture remaining in the room. A grandfather clock bonged somewhere. It was four o’clock. Merely seconds later Rosie was dashing into the room with a tray of tea cakes which she placed on the marble coffee table. With a snap of her fingers a tea kettle and two tea cups appeared as well.

“Thank you Rosie,” Draco murmured softly, offering the elf a smile. “That will be all.”

The elf scampered away again, and Harry sneered at Draco.

“Saying please and thank you to house elves now, are you?” 

“Shut up Potter. Rosie’s been here through thick and thin. She's chosen to stay of her own free will, so don't give me a lecture on house elf rights. I get enough of that in the paper, thanks to Granger,” Draco stalked over to seat himself on one end of the loveseat. He muttered something under his breath as the teapot magically poured him a glass, which he lifted to his lips with a slightly quivering hand. After several sips, Draco nodded to Harry. “Aren't you going to drink your tea? Honestly, has no one taught you how to behave as a proper guest. I invited you to have afternoon tea with me, the least you could do is pretend to drink it.”

“Are you sure you didn't just invite me so you could try to butter me up about your father’s case, which you're frankly doing a very poor job at,” Harry slowly walked over to sit at the other end of the loveseat, reaching for his cup of tea. It was raspberry tea, and he had to admit that it was very good.

Draco gazed at him from over his tea cup, before rolling his eyes and looking away. “Always assuming the worst in people. Sorry, my mistake, not people, Slytherins. It’s so easy to put others in boxes, isn't it Potter? I know all about that. I know better than to hope that the Ministry could be buttered up about anything, at least when it comes to someone like my father. You might be surprised but my ulterior motives for inviting you to tea are far less sinister than you're envisioning.”

“Oh?” Harry asked.

“I wanted company,” Draco replied simply. “Besides Rosie. She's fine, but I've had afternoon tea with her for the past five months. I wanted a change of pace.”

Harry wasn't sure what shocked him more, Draco apparent blatant honesty or the fact he had tea with a house elf. He decided to question about the latter, and Draco let out a rather undignified snort.

“When you are under house arrest and your only companion is a house elf you either become friends, or rip each other’s throats out. I'm sure there's been times Rosie has wanted to rip my throat out, but luckily for me she has a rather forgiving disposition. If my only companion was an angry, bitter house elf that would really be a right pity.”

“Well surely she's not your only companion. I mean hasn't anyone else come to visit you? You've been under house arrest since the war, I’m sure you get guests.”

“Anyone who'd be a guest in my house is dead or in Azkaban. Or they don't want to risk being a guest. You know how people are. You're their best friend when you're useful and soon as you become a burden they find new friends. Not that I mind. That's sensible of them, but it leaves me with only a house elf for a companion. I like it that way though of course. Why would I want to see people. They'll just ask uncomfortable questions about my life and why I would stoop so low as to have tea with a house elf.” Draco glared st Harry.

“But… Five months,” Harry murmured slowly. Draco simply rolled his eyes again, before staring stubbornly into his tea cup, taking a very slow sip.

“Well,” Harry cleared his throat, taking a sip of his own tea. Somehow he wasn't surprised Draco hadn't had guests in five months, he wasn't an outstanding host. Harry swallowed the tea slowly before continuing. “So, since I'm here we might as well talk. What has been keeping you occupied for five months alone in a manor with a house elf?”

“My organ, if you must know. Now the autumn harvest is coming in, though. You might have noticed the pumpkins out front. I just finished bringing them up to the house the morning. The harvest is ready to be brought in so Rosie can make her favorite meals again. She almost made apple cider for tea today, but that's no good when you have a guest over to have tea, to then not have tea.”

“Well… Your organ playing was rather amazing,” Harry admitted. “How long have you played?”

“I started my lessons at age five,” Draco replied simply. “I didn’t like it at first now it’s all that keeps me sane.”

“I didn’t know you played while we went to Hogwarts,” Harry’s eyes widened. 

“I don’t think anyone cared what I did while we went to Hogwarts,” Draco replied simply. “Expect Pansy of course. She cared about everything. Somehow I thought she still would. Somehow I thought even if no one else came to visit, that she would…”

Draco’s eyes were far away, and Harry took a slow sip of tea nervously. Somehow he wondered if the organ was successful at keeping Draco sane, but then how could one be sane after five months of solitude? As Harry examined the boy before him he found himself pondering what had happened to the brat he’d known at Hogwarts. After the war Harry had gone into auror training, where he still was, and people had sort of forgotten Draco Malfoy. Luscious’ constant complaints and trials were written about in the Prophet, but his wife’s mental instability and son’s disappearance had gone unnoticed. Harry had known about both of the Malfoy’s situations, but somehow seeing the frail, pale skeleton who spoke civilly to house elves that Draco had become made Harry wonder what had happened to other students after the war who he hadn’t bothered to keep tabs on. 

They sat in silence for what Harry estimated was a good half hour, Harry slowly sipping his tea until there was none left, and then pretending to sip from the empty tea cup.

Draco came back to life almost as quickly as he’d gone into the trance, and he turned to gaze at Harry pointedly, before asking, “So, when exactly can I be brought to see my mother?”

“Well, we’d need to arrange a date,” Harry replied slowly, shifting uncomfortably under Draco’s gaze. “There would need to be a two days notice.”

“Two days then,” Draco nodded. “Would you like to come for tea again before we go?”

“Well… I can’t guarantee that I’ll be the Auror that take you,” Harry frowned. “I’m only in training… I can try though?”

“See that you do,” Draco nodded, his voice firm, and for a moment Harry could hear the authoritative Draco he’d once known, but something in the boy’s eyes made him unable to conjure the harshness he’d displayed as a child. Draco stared at Harry for a moment more, before he suddenly stood. “Well, tea was very nice. I must get back to work. I have a lot more I need to take in from the harvest before night falls. I’ll see you in two days. Rosie!”

The house elf appeared only moments later, gazing up at Draco for direction, which the blonde was quick to give. “Please see Mister Potter out, and pack some of those tea cakes for him to bring home.”

Rosie was quick to do as she was told, Draco watching the whole thing from the shadows. Once the cakes were packed, he marched back over to Harry, and offered what might’ve been a friendly smile, but it was fairly hard to tell. 

“I’ll see you in two days,” Draco repeated, holding his hand out for a handshake. When Harry tentatively shook Draco’s hand, the boy broke out into a grin before stepping away and going to stand beside his organ. 

Rosie lead Harry to the front door silently, but when they arrived, she motioned for Harry to lean closer. When she spoke it was in a warm, old voice, like Harry would imagine one’s grandmother using.

“Whatever you did today, please do it again. That’s the happiest I’ve seen him in weeks,” Rosie murmured. “Good day, Mister Potter.”

And that was the first time that Harry saw Draco at Malfoy Manor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the kudos and the comment. Here's another organ song to go along with this chapter, and I hope you enjoy :)  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=grR_guswfyE

It was easier than expected to get his superior officer to agree to letting him be the one to escort Draco to see his mother at St Mungos. No one else particularly wanted to deal with the Malfoy, especially after the fuss his father was creating with his trial. And so two days later, right as it was getting to be 4pm, Harry was once again hurrying up to Malfoy Manor. A variety of squashes were placed beside the door today, and a smell of something pumpkin flavored was wafting out of a window. Harry could also hear the faint first notes of the organ. He didn't recognize the song, but something about the tone put him on edge. It was a frightening song, and yet it seemed to have a distinctly sad ring to it.

Harry knocked three times again, and the door was promptly opened by Rosie, a smile on her face.

“Master Malfoy has been expecting you,” Rosie declared. “Master Malfoy is playing one of his favorite pieces, so we mustn't disturb him, but Mister Potter can come listen. Come come, Master Malfoy plays this one very well indeed. I have made small pumpkin cakes for Master Malfoy and Mister Potter’s tea. Come come.”

Harry found himself smiling as the house elf cheerily lead him along. This friendly, motherly elf had no resemblance to the frightened, timid Dobby who'd endlessly spoken of having to punish himself, and Harry found himself smiling. Yes, perhaps Draco used a house elf, but he was glad to see that he wasn't abusing Rosie. He did find himself hesitating before entering the sitting room, and he knelt so that he could speak softly to the elf.

“You do realize that house elves are beginning to get their freedom, right? Why have you stayed?” Harry asked in a quiet voice. Rosie appeared to be taken aback by the question, but her answer came quickly.

“Rosie has freedom, Master Malfoy, Master Draco, granted it to Rosie after the war. Rosie could not bring herself to leave yet, though. Master Malfoy is now completely alone in this world. Rosie has seen him grow since he was a child. Yes, once Master Malfoy did only what his father wished, and Rosie was punished for small things, but Rosie has seen what violence can do. Master Malfoy saw violence, and then Master Malfoy needed someone who would not hurt him. Master Malfoy lost many things, and now Master Malfoy has no one else in the world. Would you leave someone when they have no one else in the world? Master Malfoy still says things to do, but Rosie has showed Master Malfoy how to do things for himself too. Rosie and Master Malfoy do things together now, so that Master Malfoy can be helped, and help himself. Master Malfoy needs help, and needs a friend. Rosie will not leave Master Malfoy, not even if the Ministry commands it. But perhaps Mister Potter will also be Master Malfoy’s friend, so he isn't alone in the world. Oh! Rosie must see to the tea!”

Harry gazed after Rosie as she dashed away, and then he smiled softly. Clearly Draco was not completely alone in the world. Rosie appeared to be as good of a friend as one could have. Nodding after her, Harry smiled and then crept into the sitting room.

Draco’s song was still echoing through the room with its melancholy notes and quick, uneven pace. Something about it sent shivers up Harry’s spine, and he swallowed hard as the song came to a dramatic closure, the final notes hanging thick in the air.

“That song was Danse Macabre, the Dance of Death,” Draco addressed the room without bothering to turn. “It reflects on the universality of death. No matter into what life you born, rich or poor, the dance of death unites us all. Memento mori, remember that you must die. The song was first rejected as too dark, but people simply didn't understand, they never do. The song wasn't too dark, it was too real. Hello Potter, I'm glad you could arrive today. Rosie is making us tea. Please, make yourself comfortable.”

Harry slowly walked over and tentatively sat beside the fireplace, looking up as Draco stood and came to join him. Draco’s hair was combed back into a flawless style and he wore a pressed white shirt and pressed black trousers. He looked entirely more presentable today than two days ago, yet his eyes seemed somehow more haunted today than before. Harry cleared his throat, speaking for the first time.

“Uh, yes, hello,” he nodded, trying to think of what to say next. “That song is quite… It sounds like death, I think. You're amazing at the organ.”

“I have practiced since I was five years old. I think it’s what I missed the most about the manor when I was at Hogwarts. I really missed playing my organ, that and mother, of course. We’re going to see mother today, right?” Draco asked the question with a sense of urgency, holding his hands tightly in his lap to suppress his obviously shaking hands.

“Yes, of course, that is why I'm here,” Harry reassured Draco gently. He watched the clear relief flood Draco’s face, and suddenly Harry almost felt sorry for the whisp of a person Draco had become since the war. Much of the world had started moving on, but it was becoming painfully obvious that Draco was still living in past fears in many ways. But how could he not, trapped in his lonely manor which probably now held mostly memories of Voldemort’s reign. Beyond that, something in Draco’s skeletal face made Harry wonder if there was something more under the surface to Draco that Harry had never gotten the chance to see at Hogwarts, but that came out when Draco was in his own home.

Harry swallowed hard, clearing his throat. “Perhaps after we visit your mother we could stop in town for dinner? I'm sure you'd appreciate getting out of the house for once.”

“Don't grant any favors on my account,” Draco muttered. “I don't want to be anyone’s charity case.”

“No,” Harry spoke suddenly, realizing with a start that his next words were genuine. “I’d like to take you to dinner. You… I just think it'd be good for you to get out of the house, and I have nothing else going on tonight. I don't really fancy going back to an empty, lonely house after work, so dinner would be a nice change for me too.”

Draco glanced up at Harry, pushing his blonde bangs back into place, his grey eyes searching Harry’s, before his head nodded a slight incline.

“Alright, dinner it is then, Potter,” Draco spoke, before he sat back just moment before Rosie popped into the room with a tray of cakes and tea. Harry’s mouth dropped slightly as he began to watch a fascinating display he never thought he’d witness in Malfoy Manor.

“I've got your tea and pumpkin cakes,” Rosie was saying, but as Draco reached forward, Rosie slapped his hand away gently, holding the tray out to Harry and declaring. “Not yet, Master Malfoy, the guest should always take the cake first! There now Mister Potter, now Master Malfoy, and here’s your tea.”

Harry watched as Draco playful rolled his eyes, genuinely rolled his eyes, at Rosie, before taking a cake. A contented smile, the type Harry could never have dreamed Draco could produce, bloomed on Malfoy’s face as he bit into a cake.

“They're amazing, thank you Rosie,” Draco murmured gently, before he glanced over at Harry. “Well she served you first, aren't you going to eat your cake? Yes, your mouth is open, that's only the first step. Honestly, I might have lost my ability for table manners, but it seems you've lost your ability to eat at all.”

There was a twinkle in Draco’s eyes that Harry almost thought could be humor, and he chuckled gently before biting into the gooey, delicious cake, smiling and nodding at Rosie.

“Delicious,” Harry spoke. “Thank you.”

“Very good, I shall be in the kitchen doing my canning, call me if you need anything,” Rosie declared, however Draco stopped her with an out held hand, nodding toward the cakes.

“Take a couple, okay? In fact do you want to stay for tea?”

“Perhaps next time, right now I don't have time for these little frivolous things you wizards do, I need to be attending to my canning. I will take a cake though… Delicious if I do say so myself. Now you take care of Master Draco, Mister Potter. You make sure that he sees his mother today, yes? Until next time Mister Potter.”

And with that Rosie had snapped her fingers and disappeared, leaving Draco chuckling. 

“What would I do without Rosie?” Draco smiled, sipping his tea. Harry could only shrug, smiling gently at whoever this person across from him was, because he was fairly sure that this blonde boy was not Malfoy, at least not the Malfoy Harry once knew.

Once their tea had been fully consumed, Harry helped Draco carry the tray into the Malfoy’s elaborate kitchen where Rosie was diligently canning. She and Draco had a brief conversation during which Rosie informed Draco that she was going out with friends that night so she would ‘leave Draco’s bedtime snack beside the fireplace which caused Draco to blush bright red and shush her and pull Harry away. Harry could only smile, taking Draco’s arm and then apparating them to Saint Mungos.

The hospital was dark and foreboding, but Harry smiled at Draco. 

“Are you ready?” Harry asked, to which Draco’s answer with a very firm, unequivocal ‘yes.’ And then they were headed inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment what you think, I love hearing all of your opinions :)

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment to tell me what you think so far! This is just the beginning so you'll find out more about Draco and his situation in the next chapter :)
> 
> I do recommend you check out the youtube video I posted at the top, as I feel that it helps add Halloween vibe to the story.


End file.
